TWENTY-SIX
IVALYS
It’s a human scream. Not the silent, controlled movements of the Ledger Master’s puppet—this is my brother, in pain, fighting his way back to himself. The contracts on his skin ignite, burning from within, peeling away sheet by sheet.
I watch them fall. Watch the chains dissolve. Watch my brother emerge from beneath the layers of stolen obligation.
“And the debt you think you owe—” I step toward him, my gift blazing, my voice steady even as tears stream down my face. “—is nothing compared to what I owe you.”
The truth lands. I feel it strike home—feel the binding contracts shatter as a deeper reality overwrites the lies the Ledger Master used to chain my brother.
Because it’s true. Every word of it. Gror thinks he owes me for raising him, for sacrificing my youth, for giving up everything to keep him safe. But I owe him just as much. He gave me purpose when our mother died. Gave me someone to fight for. Gave me a reason to keep going when hiding felt like drowning.
He taught me how to love—not the desperate, protective love I inherited from our mother, but the daily love of making dinner and checking homework and laughing at bad jokes. He made me a person instead of just a survivor.
And no contract can claim that.
The last of the contract-script burns away.
Gror collapses into my arms.
∗ ∗ ∗
He’s shaking. Sobbing. His face is his own again—boyish features contorted with grief and guilt, pure brown eyes swimming with tears. The contracts left burns on his skin, red welts tracing the paths where the script used to crawl. But he’s alive. He’s himself. He’s free.
I catch him before he hits the floor. Pull him against me. Feel his body heaving with sobs that shake us both.
He’s so thin. The Ledger Master didn’t bother feeding him while he was transformed—why would you feed a weapon? His ribs press against my arms through his shirt, evidence of how much the transformation and the magic consumed.
“Ivy.” His voice is wrecked. Barely recognizable. “Ivy, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—I couldn’t stop—I tried to fight but I couldn’t?—”
“I know.” I hold him. Grip him tight. Feel his heart pounding against my chest—his heart, beating on its own, no longer controlled by borrowed debt. “I know. It’s not your fault.”
“I signed the contract because I wanted to help you.” He’s babbling now, words tumbling out faster than he can control. The rapid-fire speech of the brother I remember—nervous, desperate to explain. “They told me it was an opportunity. Told me I could finally pay you back for everything. I didn’t look at the terms, Ivy. Didn’t read the fine print. I was so stupid. I was so?—”
“You were manipulated.” I pull back. Cup his face in my hands. Force him to meet my eyes. “The Ledger Master set a trap for you. For me. For our whole family. This isn’t your fault.”
“But the things I did—” His voice cracks. “While he controlled me. I remember, Ivy. I remember trying to hurt you. I remember wanting to stop and not being able to. I remember?—”
“That wasn’t you.” I grip his shoulders. Shake him gently. “Look at me. That was him. You fought it. You’re still fighting. And you’re free now.”
“Ivy.” His voice is quiet. Steady in a way I’ve never heard from him before.
“We’re alive.” I press my forehead to his. The way I used to when he was small and scared and needed me to tell him the nightmares weren’t real. “We’re alive and you’re free and that’s what matters.”
He nods. Doesn’t stop crying, but the sobs quiet. The shaking steadies. His hands find mine—grip tight, the way they did the night our mother didn’t come home. The way they have whenever the world gets too heavy to bear alone.
We’re alive. We’re free.
A heartbeat of relief. I let myself feel the victory. My brother is in my arms. The contracts that bound him are ash on the floor. The Ledger Master is dying, his power crumbling, his empire of debt collapsing around him.
I saved him. Against impossible odds, against an enemy who killed my mother, against magic I barely understand—I saved him.
My mother would be proud. Would have been proud. Would have?—
But even as I think the words, my gaze slides past him. To the massive form lying on the polished bone floor. To the contracts still crawling across green skin. To the man who threw himself in front of every debt the Ledger Master ever collected to save me.
Rathok.
